


Lies

by oxygenforthewicked



Series: Prompts and AUs [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Lots of Angst, Soulmates, Tumblr Prompt, You've been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxygenforthewicked/pseuds/oxygenforthewicked
Summary: The necklace at in her hand, heavy, warm, and humming with an old spell. Slipping the amulet around her neck, the metal rested just below her collarbone, and just above the hem of her gown. She remembered the day she’d cast the spell – she’d just been a girl. Naïve, too, for casting a spell she didn’t quite understand.The spell was meant to tell her if her soulmate was lying to her, but it had done nothing for years. She had resigned to the notion that she'd done the spell wrong - until one night when a lie changed everything.***Based on the tumblr soulmate AU prompt:  “Every lie your soulmate tells you appears on your skin”
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Series: Prompts and AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178135
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Most characters and situations belong to Bioware. No copyright infringement intended.

The leaves of the trees in the gardens swayed in the breeze, casting shadows that danced in the moonlight. Lana Lavellan stood on the balcony outside the lavish Orlesian bedroom where she had taken up residence for the ball at the Winter Palace. The estate where they were staying was covered in extravagant art and furniture, everything accented in glittering gold and decorated with needless marble statues. The decadent culture of the country made her almost feel sick, even in Halamshiral. Thankfully, they would leave the following morning if everything went according to plan that night.

Lana sighed, her restless fingers fidgeting with the skirts of her gown. She was ready, or appeared that way, at least, but merely biding her time until the ball began. Madame Vivienne had convinced Josephine to have her wear something more “suited to her title” to the ball at the Winter Palace. The emerald gown was almost Dalish in style - loose and flowed smoothly down her curves. They’d even allowed her to wear silk foot wraps instead of the ugly shoes they tried to shove her feet into.

Her hair, on the other hand, had been pinned up in braids and ringlets, with large emerald earrings dangling from her ears – far too Orlesian for her tastes, but she supposed she could bear it for one night. They had tried to make her wear some gaudy golden choker around her neck, but she would not have it. If there was one thing she would keep of herself that night, it was the necklace Deshanna had given her so many years ago.

Walking over to the vanity, she opened a small jewelry box and pulled a small pendant that hung from a silver chain. The pendant glinted in the candlelight. It had delicate metal leaves that were woven around a silver embrium flower. It sat in her hand, heavy, warm, and humming with an old spell. Slipping the amulet around her neck, the metal rested just below her collarbone, and just above the hem of her gown. She remembered the day she’d cast the spell – she’d just been a girl. Naïve, too, for casting a spell that to this day she still didn’t quite understand.

_“Look at what the Keeper gave me!” Lana said, stepping into an aravel. She was a girl of thirteen years, and an apprentice to their clan’s Keeper for her affinity for magic._

_She handed the necklace over to her best friend, Revan, and the girl turned it over in her hand. “What does it do?”_

_“Nothing, it’s just pretty.”_

_“Well, it should do something,” Revan said. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”_

_Revan jumped up and ran to her bed, digging beneath it. She pulled out an old tome that had strange markings on the front. “Here, there are some spells in here that we could cast on it.”_

_“Rev, where did you get that?” Lana asked._

_“Well, remember when we were passing those old ruins up north?” Revan asked. “I found this just lying around – there are so many spells in here that the Keeper would_ never _teach us. See, look.”_

_Revan handed the tome to Lana and flipped to the first few pages. The spells looked… strange. Stranger than any elvhen spells Deshanna had taught her. They required strange materials and…_

_“Rev, we can’t do this,” Lana said. “This is dark magic. I’m not even sure it’s elven.”_

_“Oh, who cares,” Revan said. “Magic is magic. And it’s not like we’re using blood or summoning spirits. Besides, we can choose a_ tame _spell for you.” Revan flipped a couple of pages. “Like this one. This spell, when enchanted on an object, will tell you what the weather is going to be like the next day.”_

_“I guess that would be useful,” Lana said._

_Revan hummed. “No, that necklace is too special. Let’s look at another one. Oh! This one allows you to see whenever your soulmate lies to you.”_

_“Allows you to see it? How?”_

_Revan shrugged. “Maybe you can just sense it? It doesn’t say.”_

_“Well… I guess it would be nice to know if my soulmate is lying.” Lana bit her lip. “I still don’t know if I like the idea of doing this sort of magic.”_

_“Oh, come on, El,” Revan whined. “Would it kill you to be fun? Just this once?”_

_Lana sighed. “Fine. But it had better not do anything weird like turn me into a frog or something.”_

_Revan laughed. “I doubt that. Come on, we need to go gather the ingredients.”_

Lana brushed her thumb across the metal of the amulet. The amulet had hummed with magic ever since that day, but nothing had ever happened. She had always thought that they had done the spell wrong, but still she would wear it. It reminded her of home.

A knock came at the door to her room.

“Come in,” she called.

Josephine entered the room and smiled. “Good, you’re ready. We will need to make our entrance soon.”

She followed Josephine to the carriage and off to the Winter Palace. There were to be peace talks to end the civil war that night – though it seemed the Inquisition was likely going to be the deciding factor on how peaceful it was truly going to be.

The Winter Palace was – like the rest of Orlais, it seemed – a gilded cage for the wealthy. But she doubted the walls were meant to keep the nobility in. All undesirables, elves in particular, were not even seen as people to the Orlesians. She had been briefed on the treatment of elves prior to coming, lest she be taken off-guard.

To that end, she had done what Josephine had likely dreaded her doing – she made sure the elves of the Inquisition would be present, seen, and most of all, would demand the respect they were due. If nothing else, it would make the Orlesians uncomfortable - which she was perfectly happy with.

Josephine, to her credit, had accepted Lana’s decision but warned her that some would see it as a slight. Though Lana didn’t admit it out loud, she hoped that they did take it as such.

When Lana stepped out of the carriage and approached the front gate with the honor guard in tow, she kept her chin held high as she entered the viper’s nest. Conversing with the Grand Duke Gaspard was easy enough, but she knew that he, of all people, would be the easiest to read, even with a mask. He despised the Great Game and said as such, and didn’t care for mincing words when it came to the peace talks. He was vying for power, and would use the Inquisition to do it.

As Lana approached the entrance to the palace, she dared the smallest glance at Solas, who she was grateful had remained close – though he stayed a respectable distance away as to not stir up gossip. Beside him stood Sera, who already looked bored, and her brother Taelan, whose face was completely neutral. Leliana had trained him well. 

She took a deep breath as they entered the palace, and she prayed to all the Creators that she would make it out of there alive.

***

Lana followed clue after clue, rumor after rumor, moving through servant’s quarters and empty corridors, searching for the people behind the plot to assassinate Empress Celine. They finally uncovered the true instigator of the night, Florianne de Chalons.

Fortunately, they were able to stop the assassination from happening, and Lana was able to force Celine, Briala, and Gaspard into a truce.

The night was saved, but Lana couldn’t help but feel there would be more trouble on the horizon.

She stepped out for air and was grateful for the chill of the night. Leaning against the railing, she closed her eyes, trying to calm the adrenaline that was still running through her system. Footsteps came from behind her, and she turned to see Solas taking his place beside her.

“I imagined I would find you here,” he said with a smile. 

“I couldn’t stay there another minute longer,” she said. She noted the elated expression on his face, the light still dancing in his eyes. “You seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit, though.”

“There are spirits hovering by the Veil to observe the thrones of powerful nations. The machinations, betrayals… and now I understand why. I had forgotten how much I’ve missed court intrigue.” 

“You miss court intrigue? When were you at court?” Lana asked curiously.

Solas shifted. “Oh, well… Never directly of course. An elven apostate is rarely invited to speak with empresses and kings. But from the Fade, I have watched dynasties form and empires crumble. It is sometimes savage, sometimes noble – and always fascinating.”

_He’s rambling. Why is he rambling?_

The skin of her right palm began to tingle uncomfortably, a dull burn growing there. She shook her hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, I–” she looked down at her palm. In a strange, neat script, were Solas’s words.

_Never directly, of course._

What was it supposed to mean? Was it some kind of strange spell, or…? Her blood chilled. Her necklace was hotter than usual against her skin.

_The spell in the necklace._ Had it finally worked? Thoughts spun around in her head, until Solas’s voice brought her back to the present.

“What is it?” he asked, and she clamped her hand closed, pulling away slightly.

“Nothing,” she said with a smile.

He returned the smile and offered his hand. “Before the band stops playing – dance with me?”

“Okay,” she said, taking his hand – careful to keep her palm down as he pulled her into a waltz.

***

When Lana finally returned to her room, she shut and locked the door. She looked down at her palm, which was now bare. It wasn’t a permanent mark, at the very least.

The spell she and Revan had placed on it – it was meant to tell her when her soulmate was lying to her. Was Solas truly her soulmate, then?

Even worse – this meant that he was lying. _But why would he lie about never having gone to court?_

He’d said that apostates rarely are asked to speak with empresses and kings. So, if he _had_ been to court, which court was it? And under what circumstances? Suddenly, it felt like things were beginning to click into place. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, how he acted like neither a Dalish elf nor a city elf… the fact that she barely knew anything about his past. Whenever he was asked, he would give a generic response and begin talking about the Fade and spirits.

She bit her lip.

_Vhenan – who are you?_

***

Lana chewed on her lip as she tried to focus on reading the words on the page in front of her. She was curled up on the sofa by her fireplace, trying desperately to read the book Dorian had given her, but she couldn’t focus. When she had read the same line nearly ten times she huffed and slammed the book shut. She had debated telling someone else about it – but she didn’t want to put him under fire. Creators knew that Leliana would have him locked up and interrogated if she even suspected duplicity.

But she knew Solas – he was kindhearted, wise… he wouldn’t have joined them and helped them this much if he were working for the enemy.

And perhaps he really did just want to keep his past private – maybe he was ashamed of his past and wanted to start anew? She supposed she could understand that.

_I’m probably reading too much into this._

Clearly, she realized, he hadn’t ever lied to her before. This was the first time – yet she supposed his vague answers could be the reason it never counted as a lie?

She wanted so desperately to ask him about his past – and maybe if she explained the situation, he would understand. _Or he would distance himself,_ she thought sadly. They were close on many levels, but whenever they broached a topic he didn’t wish to discuss, he would close up and become defensive. She’d learned not to press certain issues.

She sighed. Giving him the benefit of the doubt for now was the best course of action. Asking questions without probing him too much and try to get at least a vague explanation. And if he lied, she would know.

Then there was the issue of the implications of knowing his lie in the first place.

The wording of the spell had said soulmate – not lover, husband, friend. Soulmate. Her stomach churned. She should be happy that he was; she loved him, after all.

Yet, he kept her at arm’s length at all times. Even in their stolen moments, she could see that he never truly let his guard down. The moments that he did, though… those were the ones she tried to cling to.

It was about a month prior, when they had returned from Adamant, she had convinced him to stay the night with her, as she was still broken up over leaving Alistair in the Fade. He had curled his arms around her and held her close until morning – and there was a strange vulnerability in his expression when they woke. As though, for a brief moment, he was happy. _Truly_ happy. She remembered the way he’d buried his face in her neck, his fingers tracing across the bare skin of her lower back. 

_“We could stay here,” he’d suggested. “I doubt the Inquisition will fall apart if you are absent for one day.”_

_She’d laughed. “Josephine will have a fit.”_

_He’d tugged her close to him, looking down at her with a gaze that made her heart leap. “Please, vhenan,” he said, nuzzling her with his nose._

_“Okay,” she’d agreed. “One day won’t hurt.”_

But as soon as they had left her quarters, his stony mask returned, as though none of it had happened. 

Getting up, she paced back and forth in front of her fireplace. Perhaps if he knew that she would love him, regardless of his past, he wouldn’t feel the need to hide from her.

If she were going to do that, however, she would need to be clever about it. She wasn’t exactly well-versed in interrogation questions, though.

So she decided to ask the best person she could think of.

***

“Bull, you’ve interrogated people, right?”

Bull blinked at Lana, and she could see the wheels turning inside his head. “Hello to you too, Boss,” he chuckled. “And yes, I have. Why do you ask?”

She shifted and bit her lip. “Just… curious.”

“You know, you’re _really_ bad at lying,” he said, leaning forward. “If you’re interrogating anyone, you’ll either need to get better at that, or avoid lying altogether. Now, what is this really about?”

She sighed. “Walk with me?”

He nodded and followed her out of the Herald’s Rest. She led him up to the parapets, and leaned against the outer wall. He was quiet as he waited for her to continue.

“It’s nothing to be worried about, I think,” she began. “But I recently found out that someone is potentially lying about their past.”

“It’s Blackwall, isn’t it?”

She frowned. “No, it’s not Blackwall. Why, do you think he’s lying about his past?”

Bull shrugged. “Just a guess. Anyway, go on.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. “I know the person lied, and I want to get the truth out of them, but I don’t think they’re a threat – and just outright asking them isn’t going to work.”

Bull leaned against the wall beside her. “If they aren’t a threat, why are you so worried?”

She crossed her arms as she looked out at the mountains.

He sighed. “Well, for starters, don’t ask any leading questions. You know, questions that they could use to deflect or distract. Keep to the point at all times.”

“Because _that_ will be easy,” she muttered.

“May be best to prepare your questions beforehand,” he said, “and have follow-up questions if they try to deflect too much. Think of it like chess.”

“Chess,” she sighed. “Noted.”

“But most importantly,” he said, touching her shoulder. “Don’t let your emotions get in the way. The truth isn’t always easy to accept.”

“I can try,” she said.

Bull smiled at her. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the only person he _might_ tell the truth to.”

She swallowed as she looked up at him.

“Ben-Hassrath, remember?” he said with a wink as he left her on the parapets alone.

She looked back at the mountains.

_I can do this._

She would do this. They were leaving for the Arbor Wilds the following day, but once they came back, she would talk to him.

***

The Temple of Mythal had been nothing like Lana had expected. The ancient elves that were still alive, the Fen’Harel statues all over the temple, and the Well of Sorrows…

She’d stood at the edge of the Well, the water rippling with the light breeze that moved through the temple. The power from the Well could be felt in the air, brushing against her skin as though it were a living _thing._ Whoever drank from the Well would be bound to the will of the priests of the temple – but they could use it to defeat Corypheus.

Morrigan had tried to convince Lana to allow her to drink from the Well. She supposed that it would have been better if she had just let Morrigan drink – but whether it was her desire to have something, _anything_ , that would connect her to her people, or merely just her pride, she decided she would not let Morrigan have the Well.

Lana had glanced at Solas before entering the Well, and she’d see something like anger in his eyes. But she didn’t have time to explain to him that this was the best choice. Corypheus was coming, and they could not let him defile the Well, or use it for his own gain.

So she stepped into the Well and drank from it. The world had faded, and she was hearing the voices from the Well. She couldn’t understand them at first, until she vowed to do whatever it took in order to stop Corypheus.

She’d woken up, something strange lingering in the back of her mind. Whispers that dulled ever so slightly as she sat up – that quickly vanished as they realized Corypheus had found them at last. They went through the eluvian behind the Well, and it sealed easily behind them.

When they arrived back through the eluvian at Skyhold, Lana felt her head ache from everything that had happened.

And Solas wouldn’t even look at her.

She was still reeling from the strange exchange he’d had with Abelas.

_“Elvhen such as you?” Abelas had asked._

_“Yes,” Solas had replied. “Such as I.”_

Perhaps she really was reading too much into it… but his words, while they had gone unnoticed by everyone else, lingered in her mind.

Why had it felt so strange?

She wondered this while she bathed and dressed in fresh clothes, letting her hair hang loose down her back. While she didn’t think it was going to be the _best_ time to interrogate Solas, she felt like she deserved an explanation for everything. Why he was so mad, what his exchange with Abelas had meant, why she just always felt like he was avoiding sharing _any_ bit of himself with her –

And maybe she would tell him the truth, too.

***

Lana entered the rotunda, fidgeting with her sleeves nervously. She found Solas standing in front of a blank wall with his hands on his hips, his brushes and paints strewn about as though he’d tried to paint but couldn’t. He turned to look at her, and she felt pinned on the spot.

“I _begged_ you not to drink from the Well. Why could you not have listened?”

“Solas,” she started, but the words died on her lips.

“You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elven _god,_ ” he said, facing her fully. “You are Mythal’s creature now. Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her. You have given up a part of yourself.”

“You don’t even believe in the elven gods,” Lana said, folding her arms across her chest.

“I don’t believe they were gods, no, but.. but I believe they _existed._ Something existed to start the legends. If not gods, then mages, or spirits, or something we’ve never seen. And you are _bound_ to one of them, now.” He sighed. “I suppose it is better that you have the power than Corypheus. Which leads to the next logical question – what will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?”

She thought for a moment. “If we survive, I will use it to undo the chaos that Corypheus and his allies have caused,” she replied.

He looked almost… surprised. “You would put things back the way they were before?”

“Yes – well, not exactly, but…”

“I know what you mean,” he said with a smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You have not been what I expected. You have… impressed me,” he said. “You honor the past, and have worked to recover what was lost, even if the cost is high. I respect that, and am indebted to you for the reminder.”

She tried to keep a straight face. He was being particularly vague again, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

“But forgive my melancholy,” he went on. “Corypheus has cost us much. The Temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate. The orb he carries, and its stolen power… that, at least, we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive.”

_Why does he care about the temple so much? And the orb?_ He’d said the orb was elven, but he seemed so… she couldn’t put her finger on it. But nothing he’d said so far was a lie, so perhaps it was just that simple.

He took her hand. “Will you come with me, vhenan?” he said suddenly. “There is somewhere I would like to take you.”

She relaxed slightly. “Of course.”

***

They walked through a cave to a small pond in Crestwood. The water rippled softly against the bank, and Lana all but forgot herself for a moment as he held her hand, guiding her toward the water.

“The Veil is thin here,” he said. “Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?”

“I can,” she said softly.

He looked over at her, his warm gaze making her cheeks heat. She wanted so badly to forget – to just enjoy this moment in time with him. No Corypheus, no Inquisition, no magic necklace. Just him. He cupped her face, running his thumb across her cheekbone.

“I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me,” he said.

She bit her lip. “That’s not necessary, Solas,” she said. “You’re my…” She stopped herself short. She supposed now would _normally_ be a good time to tell him that he was her soulmate, but she almost forgot that she needed a find a way to get him to tell her the truth.

“That is the question, is it not?” he said with a small smile. “For now, the best gift I can offer you, the truth,” he said.

She blinked. Perhaps she would not need to pry it out of him, after all.

“You are unique,” he went on. “In all of Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade. You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined.”

“As you are to me,” she said.

“Then what I must tell you… the truth…” Something in his eyes seemed to shift, as though he were suddenly unsure of himself. “You face – the vallaslin. In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean.”

Her necklace began to heat, and she felt the skin of her palm tingle. She kept her face neutral. “They honor the elven gods,” she said slowly.

“No,” he replied. “They are slave markings, or at least, they were in the times of ancient Arlathan.”

Her necklace did not heat again. She frowned. “My Keeper said they honored the gods. These are their symbols.”

“Yes. That’s right,” he said. “A noble would mark his slaves to honor the god he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

Her cheeks heated, and she took a step back. He wasn’t lying about the vallaslin, but… she turned away and stole a glance at her hand.

_In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean._

So… he found out the truth another way, then? She closed her palm and turned to look at the water. “We’ve preserved what we can of our culture – our history. I’ve spent years studying what little has been written and discovered of our past, but this…” she sighed, turning back to him.

“I’m sorry – I didn’t tell you this to hurt you,” he said, taking a step beside her. “If you like, I know a spell. I can remove the vallaslin.”

“Regardless of what it meant back then, the Dalish have reclaimed the vallaslin. I know you told me this because you wanted to help, but the vallaslin is part of who I am. I hope you can see past…”

“Stop,” he said. “You are perfect exactly as you are.”

He pulled her close and kissed her softly, wrapping his arms around her. She melted in his arms, letting herself get lost in the kiss. Perhaps she could just ask him. Perhaps…

His lips stilled, and he pulled away. Something in his eyes changed.

“And I am sorry,” he said suddenly. “I have distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.”

He backed away, putting some space between them.

“What?” she said incredulously.

“You are the Inquisitor – continuing this emotional entanglement will lead to a destination that benefits neither of us.”

“No, stop,” she said. “You mean to tell me that you _brought_ me here just to tell me the truth about my vallaslin? And now you’re just going to leave?”

“I…” he said, before looking away. “I am sorry.”

“Tell me the truth, Solas,” she said, taking a step closer. “The _real_ truth.”

“What truth are you referring to?” he asked.

“You lied about never having been to court,” she said. “You’ve always been so cryptic about your past – and just now you lied to me about how you found out about the vallaslin.”

He stared at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Her necklace burned, and she felt the ink marking her skin once more. “I think you know exactly what I mean, Solas,” she said. “Why are you so afraid to let me or anyone else in? Who _are_ you?”

“I am just an apostate,” he said smoothly.

Her hand burned. “Try again,” she said. Fury was rippling through her. She couldn’t tell if it was because of the lie or the fact that he had so easily broken things off between them.

“ _Vhenan_ , please,” he said softly.

Tears welled in her eyes. “Is it really so terrible that you can’t just tell me?”

“If you knew,” he said, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I… I can’t.”

“You can,” she said, closing the distance between them and taking his hand. “You _can_ tell me. Whatever it is… it’s alright, _vhenan._ ”

“No,” he said. “This is not a burden I will allow you to bear.” He turned away from her, and she stood there, frozen as he began to walk away.

_Don’t leave,_ she’d wanted to say. _Don’t leave, you’re the other half of my soul. Ma’sal’shiral. And I’m not just saying that because of a foolish spell I cast as a child. I’m saying it because I know it, in my heart._

But the words had stuck in her throat, which now felt like sandpaper. She watched the shadows of the cave envelop him, and just like that – he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (per Project Elvhen):  
> Ma’sal’shiral: “Love of my life”/”my soul’s journey”  
> Vhenan: Heart


End file.
